Gollum's Story
by Entwife
Summary: Gollum's life, Gollum's POV.
1. Chapter One: The Finding of the Precious

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings and all characters, places, etc. etc. belong to Tolkein.  
  
Gollum's Story  
  
Chapter One: The Finding of the Precious  
  
I wake up every morning to the same thing. Grandmother and Mother huddling over a cooking fire, and Father fishing. It is so dull. But today, today is different. Today, Father promised I could go fishing with him. He promised! He was in denial that he had a son in his tweens. But that's how he is. He has never let me go before. It took Mother pleading with me to have him even THINK about it. But I don't care any more. I can go fishing!  
  
Fish is all we eat in our little town. Fish and fruit and wheat. That's all we eat! But now, I can fish, and am on my way to being an adult. My coming of age isn't for a few years yet, eight to be exact. But I can go fishing!  
  
I baited the hook with a worm. I silently thanked the worm for giving its life up so we could find food. Father had taught me that. I cast the line like a pro. The boring part is waiting. But there! I felt a tug! And there! Another one! "Father!" I called, "I've got a bite!" He hurried along to me.  
  
"Pull the line in slowly," he directed. I did so with my long nimble fingers. "Take the fish off the hook." I attempted, but I failed, and the fish began bleeding from the gills. Father finished taking it off the hook for me. That morning, I caught three fish, but one was too small, so Father let it go. "To get bigger so we can catch and eat it another time," was the explanation.  
  
We got back just in time for breakfast. "Smeagol!" Mother shrieked, "Go wash up. Right now!" she added when I didn't make a move. I washed in the basin that was kept full of wash-water. I went back, and we thanked the fish for giving their lives so we could eat.  
  
After breakfast I went out with Deagol, my best friend. We decided to swim in the River. We splashed and raced. I attempted to catch a fish with my bare hands. "It's hopeless, Deagol," I exclaimed. He tried as well. He managed to get closer, but still no fish. We promised each other that we would perfect that system before the summer was over. And so we did.  
  
Every summer we made a new bet; one year it was to not wear our caps any more. Our mothers ruined that one.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
It's my Birthday today! I turn twenty-eight. Mother made a veritable feast! She has made all the best foods: fish, eggs, cake, and oranges. Well, she didn't make the oranges, she got them. But they're there!  
  
Now come the presents. Deagol got me a pretty silver chain. Mother and Father got me a set of colors so I can draw my surroundings and remember them when I'm older. Grandmother gave me a chest to keep my belongings in. "It's time you started keeping mementos of your tween years," she said.  
  
The best present of all was that my parents said that Deagol and I could go to an unexplored part of the River. Deagol's parents had already said it was fine. So we went and caught fishes with naught but our hands. Then, when Deagol was exploring the bottom of the River, he found a Ring. It was gold, and shiny, but covered in muck. He tried to hide it from me. "Give it to me, Deagol," I commanded. I didn't know why, but after it was said, I stuck by it.  
  
Deagol defied me. "No, I found it! It came to me! Besides, I've given you a present already, more than I could afford."  
  
I wanted that Ring, more than anything I've ever wanted. Something came over me, something I couldn't explain, and I decided to squeeze Deagol until he handed it over. I gave him one last chance. "Give it to ussss, Deagol!" But he made the wrong decision. My fingers wrapped around his throat. He didn't give it up! I squeezed harder! But his fingers were still clasped around the Ring, the Precious. I squeezed the life out of him. I pried his fingers apart and put the Precious on the chain he had given to me. I was suddenly stabbed with grief over the loss of my friend. How would I explain this to my parents, to his parents? But I took the body, and threw it in the River. 


	2. Chapter Two: The Lies Begin

Disclaimer: I am not making any money off this, I do not own any of the characters, places, etc. Please do NOT sue me. Thank you.  
  
Gollum's Story  
  
Chapter Two: The Lies Begin  
  
"What am I going to tell my parents? His parents?" I thought. "My best friend lies at the bottom of the River, dead, and I did it! Well, I definitely can't tell them the truth, though I've never lied to them before. I can't tell them about the Ring, the Precious, they would make me find whoever had lost it and return it to them. No, I am better off making up a story."  
  
I sat down on a smooth, gray stone overlooking Deagol's watery grave. I couldn't think of anything. Then a thought popped into my head, "What if we told them that he drowned, yes, drowned, like many of our kind do each year." That thought was definitely going to work, although I would have to make up more events to make it seem true. This thought firmly embedded in my mind, I set off for home.  
  
It was nearing noon when I started off for home. I suddenly became aware that I was hungry. "Let's stop for a bite to eat, yes Precious, and then make our way home," I thought. I listened to the River and realized that there were plenty of fish for the taking. I reached in and grabbed a fish. I was so ravenous that I ate it raw. Mama would have scolded me, had she been there, but I didn't care. The sun was unusually hot, her golden light making the Precious sparkle and shine upon my hand.  
  
I strolled along leisurely, dreading having to face my parents and the Stewerns. What would they think of me now? "Push those thoughts from your mind, it doesn't matter; you've got the Precious," said a voice inside my head. It was mine, and yet not mine. I pushed it out of my mind and followed his instructions.  
  
I arrived at home just before dusk. I pushed open the doors to our kitchen, trying not to be seen or heard by my mother. She was busy preparing dinner, so I turned to leave. "Smeagol, is that you?" she asked in her singsong voice.  
  
"Yes, Mama," I responded.  
  
"Well, come out from behind the door; I can't see you."  
  
She couldn't see me? But I was right there. I suddenly realized that the Precious was still on my finger. I quickly slipped it off.  
  
"Oh, there you are. I was getting ever so worried. Where's Deagol?"  
  
"Mama, I have something I need to tell you, Papa, and the Stewerns. It's about Deagol."  
  
Mama looked as though her world had just ended. "I'll go get your father. You go get Damen and Lily Stewern. I'll be right back," she commanded in a strained tone, as though she were struggling against tears.  
  
When they were all gathered in our small living area, I cleared my throat and stood up. "Well, about Deagol. You see, we were swimming and splashing in the River. He dove under an outcropping of rock and a long weed caught onto him, though he didn't notice." The more detailed I got, the easier the lies came. "He kept swimming through that same area, getting the weed more and more tangled until he couldn't come up for air. He splashed and spluttered, but I couldn't help him. There was fear in his eyes. Then, they closed, and there was no more sight of the brown. By that time, I needed to come up for air. I tried to untangle the body, but it wouldn't be freed. I marked the spot with a small stick, so that if you wanted to see the spot you could," I stopped.  
  
Lily Stewern opened her mouth, as if to talk, but all that came out was a low moaning, "Deagol, my baby, my love, my baby." This created a wave of guilt. Why had I killed him? He was my best friend! "The Precious is more important then friendssssss," stated the voice. "Go away!" I thought, "I'm getting rid of the Precious tonight." "You don't have the strength, no preciosssss," the voice responded. And suddenly, I realized that I couldn't, no matter what. The Precious was a part of me. Whether I liked it or not.  
  
A/N: That's it! How do you like it? Please review. Oh, and if you'd like a small part (A friend of Smeagol's, a friend of the parents, whatever) just review with how you would be related to the story, your name, approximate age and height, hair and eye color. I have room for several characters; I just need to know if you're interested. Thanks! 


	3. Chapter Three: The Hamlet is Left Behind

Disclaimer: See previous chapters.  
  
Gollum's Story  
  
Chapter Three: The hamlet is left behind  
  
I woke up the next morning and went about life as usual. Mama made me wash up, and we ate breakfast. Papa tilled the farm and fished for our dinner. I was in "mourning," so I couldn't do anything fun. All I can do is sit and think about Deagol until his memorial, a good three days away.  
  
Maris, Deagol's younger sister, came over and sat next to me as I "mourned" for my friend. Her green-blue eyes were teary, and it looked as though she hadn't done her hair for a few days. "Smeagol," she said, "I don't blame you, but I do not believe that you told the entire truth. Where did you find that ring?"  
  
"It's MINE!" I snarled, "you shall not have it!"  
  
"Smeagol, what's come over you?" she questioned.  
  
"Nothing, nothing my love," I replied, and stalked off into the small woods behind my house. I placed the ring on my finger, and the world changed. The sun wasn't so bright, and the dark wasn't so dark. It all appeared to blend into one, not darkness, no, but not light either. I came out of the trees, and walked up to Maris. I blew lightly on the back of her neck. When she turned around, she didn't say anything to me. "Must've been my imagination," she muttered.  
  
After Deagol's memorial, life got back to normal. Almost normal, anyway. I found I could hear secrets, like Mr. Bucklebury's affair with an outlander. I also knew how to exploit these people, and made myself quite a sum. That was three years before Grandmother found out my secret.  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
"Smeagol," my grandmother called.  
  
"Oh dear," I thought, "I'm in for it now." Grandmother was probably the oldest woman in our community, and thus, she was our leader. She was a very intimidating old lady, her long, white hair pulled into a bun on top of her head and her knowledgeable eyes questioning your every thought. She frightened me because she held the power to throw me out. Even though I detested the people around me, I had no desire to become a wanderer.  
  
"I'm coming!" I hollered across the room. I ran up to her chair and sat before her.  
  
"Smeagol," she said, "I fear you are not doing your best to help our village. In fact, I believe you are trying to tear it apart."  
  
"No, ma'am," I interrupted.  
  
"You will not speak until I tell you it is the time for it!" she yelled, and smacked the top of my hand. "I do not want to hear of any more blackmail from you. You are on probation. In three months, your sentence will be lifted. In that time, if I find that you have done anything against our rules and regulations, you will find yourself in exile."  
  
I didn't change my ways and the others complained continuously. They called me "Gollum" because of the retching sound I made after I ate. Their food became hateful to me, a mark of the happy life I had once led. I ate fish raw simply to spite them. The voice became present more and more often, and I felt it easier to do what it told me. In that way I became a wretched creature. I endured; I didn't live. Two and a half months into my "probation," my Grandmother found enough cause to kick me out. "We don't need them, no my love," whispered the voice. "We can survive on our own. We only need the precious." I felt different. I yelled curses, curses to kill everything in the town.  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
Many years later, when I returned, I found that my curses had done their jobs. The town lay in ruin, burnt to the ground, white skeletons forming eerie patterns on the blackened ground. I crushed every skull beneath my foot so the dead could not rest in peace.  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
I traveled long distances for years, wandering and feasting on whatever strayed into my path. By that time, I had outlived the life expectancy of my people, and grew thin, gaunt, and ghost-like. More and more I lived in the shadows of the ring. The sun became hateful to me, and I would travel during the night and through dense forest to avoid her light. Eventually, even the moon's pale gleam hurt my eyes. That was when I knew I needed to find somewhere else. Somewhere to endure for the rest of my miserable, pathetic life. I crept out of the forest I had spent the last five years of my life in, and traveled until I found a river. "Rivers lead us to dark, to mountains," the voice said. I knew that only in the hearts of mountains would there be complete dark; there would be no light to hurt my tender eyes. "And in darkness, there must be dark secrets," I thought. Secrets, not rumors of secrets, but True Secrets. My heart beat wildly with this thought. "I must find these secrets," I said to myself, "I must find this place of entire dark."  
  
I followed the river, living off its supply of fish, until I came to where I knew the entrance to the heart of the mountain must be. I shook my fist at the waxing moon, because his light could no longer be a threat to my eyes. I turned and entered the gloom that would be my "home" for the next four hundred years.  
  
A/N: Do any of you need a beta? I'm interested in becoming one. If you are interested, e-mail me with "beta" in the subject line. 


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